


Cold

by thepapercrow



Category: Red Dead Redemption (Video Games)
Genre: Asphyxiation, Gen, Hypothermia, Panic Attacks, Past Child Abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-04
Updated: 2020-10-04
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:27:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26812126
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepapercrow/pseuds/thepapercrow
Summary: Arthur recalls his childhood fears living with Lyle as he struggles to cope during the winter in Colter.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 34





	Cold

His arms were short, barely long enough to reach the door handle but he’d rest his hand on it anyway, stretching up, freezing his hand on the cold knob. Sometimes he’d even turn it a little, just to check that it could still move- that it wasn’t locked up tight. But never more, Arthur knew that even the slight wiggle was a bold move. When his hour was up, sometimes he’d be giddy with relief and would silently spin around his room, happy and warm. But other days ended in shivering and confusion before a fire- barely feeling it’s warmth despite his proximity to the flame.

His father Lyle had bought the cabin for two hundred bucks from a local hunter. In the summer Lyle frequented the town, stealing, cheating, or drinking away their days but winters were for the cabin. Each year Arthur could remember began with a big case of whisky, rations of dried meat, grain, and the shot gun, displayed proudly across his father’s lap. “In case of wolves or unruly children.” But Arthur welcomed the shotgun, even at eight he knew his father wouldn’t shoot him, would be satisfied with a few good whacks from the barrel. The snow was what he feared- the punishment left for the more heinous crimes. Wetting the bed, spilling food, talking back, or giving Lyle ‘that look.’ Staying out of sight was the best strategy though, tucking himself in the back of the root cellar with his little chalk board to draw. Each day he’d have to wipe it clean, but that was alright- it was the best gift he’d ever received.

-

Arthur was no stranger to the cold, he’d encountered snow many times in his thirty six years, but the endless sheets and glass surface of lake Isabella were a whole different level. More blinding that even the winters of his childhood. It was intimidating and beautiful, and every night since the flight from Blackwater Arthur had dreamed of freezing to death and dead faceless women on ferries. Of waking up frozen, immobile and slowly freezing without the energy to utter a sound. Then he’d shock himself awake, equally freezing but able to move- to stretch his limbs and stagger to his feet.

“Plenty of prey in these hills, the weather looks nicer this time though,” Charles said. Arthur liked the man well enough, he seemed hardworking and evidently was a talented hunter when he wasn’t slowed down by his injuries. He nodded and spurred his horse in line with Charles’s. They only found one deer this time around, but the rabbits were everywhere and soon a good four rabbits joined the doe on the back of Arthur’s horse.

They had been laughing over something mindless, antics of dogs to be specific- how Arthur’s old dog had always chased his tail. Charles had said something about a pet goat. It had been comfortable, easy conversation between quiet men. The first crash was distant, probably from the other side if the mountain at least. Arthur had frozen on the spot.

“What was that?”

“Probably the snow, must be thawing,” Charles answered, but there was hesitance in his voice, as if he wasn’t really sure what was happening. “I haven’t spent much time in the cold.”

  
“Maybe we should go back,” Arthur replied, sounding weak to his own ears. “Don’t want to be caught in something nasty.”

Charles nodded, “maybe you’re right. Too bad we didn’t get-” he was cut off as the hillside above them was suddenly barreling towards them. Charles somehow spurred his horse towards Arthur and slammed into his side pushing them both towards a rock formation, but the snow hit him harder and Arthur lost track of him immediately. Arthur had no chance to move as the snow crowded him from every direction. He tried to yell to Charles, to breathe at all but as he could was gasp at the feeling of air being pushed out of his lungs.

Arthur didn’t know if he was asleep or awake at this point. He couldn’t hear anymore but could feel the vibrations to his left. Everything was bright white and Arthur didn’t know which way was which. He somehow flailed over a bit to the left. Eventually he stumbled into something warm. Felt like a horse- warm but still. A bit further before he felt smooth surface of the boulder. He tried to scramble up along the side but his world was going fuzzy, he couldn’t breathe. A few more awkward grasps for rock. He felt himself weaken, as if his life force was fleeing before his eyes. He couldn’t breathe, shapes spun behind his eyes, colors. He was confused but content now, settling into his nest. He suddenly felt himself pulled upward and did all he could from screaming out. It was too soon, he’d only been down there for a few minutes so far- Lyle would kill him if he left. He fought to stay down, against the arm trying to force him into the open. He lashed out and heard a grunt of pain as his fist collided with something.

“Arthur? What are you doing? Hey!” something was shaking him now as he tried to breathe. There was snow in his throat, his clothing, everywhere.

“I’m sorry. Fuck I didn’t mean it. Please don’t…”

When Arthur finally managed to open his eyes, he saw Charles staring back at him, equally snow covered but whole- confusion spread across his face. He heard a slight whine, Tamia- seemingly unscathed off to the side.

“You okay Arthur?”

“I…yeah, sorry I just got confused there for a second, must have hit my head.”

“Don’t be sorry, I tried to get to you in time but the mountain had a mind of its own. Sorry about your horse though, I don’t think she made it.”

“Weren’t mine. A shame though.”

Both of them were quiet on the ride back to Colter, Arthur ashamed and guilty. Taima clearly didn’t like the situation, but she allowed them to ride her at a slow pace.

“You sure you’re okay?” Charles asked and Arthur just nodded. He was fine. The gang was gathered around the fire when the two of them returned empty-handed, one horse short. Dutch hurried towards them, a stern look on his face.

“What happened Arthur?” he nearly shouted, and Arthur flinched from his place behind Charles. “Where’s your horse?”

Arthur didn’t answer so Charles hesitantly spoke up, “there was an avalanche. Arthur and the horse went down. He got out, the horse didn’t.”

“And what were you doing in the path of an avalanche?” Dutch asked, walking around the horse to get a clear look at Arthur.

“I-” Arthur tried to think of a good excuse, anything. “I don’t know.”

Dutch put a hand to his forehead, “shit, I know it weren’t nobody’s fault son. But this is not what we need. Not what we need!” he stormed off, leaving them both to dismount, the group near the campfire staring at them. Charles gave Arthur a sympathetic pat on the shoulder and headed off. Arthur opened his mouth, he wanted to thank Charles but felt his throat close.

He headed over to his cabin instead. But as he put his hand on the door handle he froze. The rest of the gang was sharing tiny bunkhouses with leaking rooves and here he was in his own private room. He turned around, found a bale of frozen, ruined hay and lit up a cigarette. It was cold but he could still move, even as the sun set behind the mountains. He’d go inside in a while, but it was starting to feel comfortable outside and he was very sleepy.

**Author's Note:**

> Open ended, did he die and stop the whole plotline of rdr2 or not? Who knows.


End file.
